Dead Set: A Novel
Page 15
Emmett bowed as his mother exhorted the crowd to applaud. He raised his hands to his throat and dug his nails into his skin. As he pulled, the skin stretched like rubber. His face grew distorted and the skin slid upward, until it pulled all the way from his head and hung like a limp, flesh-colored rag in his hands.
What was beneath wasn’t a human face that looked out over the crowd. It was the visage of a cobra, with its hood extended almost out to its shoulders. Hecate leaned in to kiss her son’s true face. Zoe didn’t need to see any more. She turned, hoping to disappear up a side street and work her way back to Valentine’s house. Before she could move, though, something sharp pressed into her spine.
“There aren’t many here tonight that I could threaten with a knife,” came a man’s melodious and oddly familiar voice. “My guess is that you’re the only one.”
Zoe turned her head as far as she could and peered up at the bird-faced man she’d been talking to earlier.
“You knew all along. And now you’re going to turn me in for the reward,” she said.
The man let out one barking laugh. “What’s the fun in that? Besides, Hecate can’t afford my wildest dreams. No, I have something more interesting in mind.” Zoe felt a sharp pain as the knife dug into her back. “Come with me,” he said, taking hold of her sleeve and leading her away.
Ten
His apartment wasn’t far. The building was just a couple of blocks off the main street, and much closer than her father’s room, lost in the tangle of anonymous buildings farther inland. He had to stop twice along the way to drink from a silver flask. He had a limp even worse than Zoe’s and whatever was in the flask seemed to dull the pain.
When they reached his building, the sidewalk was clean and clear of any debris. The buildings stood relatively straight up and down. Oak trees lined both sides of the street and all the streetlights worked. Night-blooming jasmine climbed up trellises, filling the air with their faint ghost scent.
Inside the building, the carpets were clean and the elevator still worked. They rode up to the top floor and went to his room, which was at the front of the building. He had to stop once more in the hallway to nurse his bad leg. When he felt better, he took out his key, unlocked the door, and pushed Zoe inside.
His room was laid out like her father’s, but that’s where the resemblance ended. This room was clean and lived in. The floor was covered with a large Persian carpet in warm colors, and the walls were freshly painted. The dresser was made of a dark, ornately carved wood, decorated with dragons at each corner. The table and chairs in his little kitchen matched the dresser. A maroon silk duvet covered the ample bed. There was a large leather armchair with carved dragon paws for legs. Through the window, Zoe could see the ocean and the moon hovering overhead.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, releasing his grip on her sleeve. He pointed with the knife. “On the chair, sit on your hands.” Zoe walked to the chair and did as she was told, sliding her hands under her legs as she sat. The bird-faced man limped to the end of the bed and dropped down onto it. “What’s your name?” He stretched out his leg and winced as pain stabbed through him.
“Zoe.”
The man nodded. “I’m Prosper. Mr. Prosper to you.” He took out the flask, unscrewed it with one hand, and drank deeply. He kept a tight grip on the knife with the tip pointed in her direction. Zoe could tell that he was exhausted. He was sweating just from the effort of bringing her to the room. His lips were as drained as his gray face, and his hands shook.
It didn’t seem like a moment to be shy. “What’s wrong with your leg?” she asked.
“Never you mind about my leg.” Amber-colored apothecary bottles littered the top of a small bedside table. Zoe saw other bottles on the dresser and the floor next to the bed. She could only read one word on their labels, Laudanum.
Mr. Prosper was staring at her, studying her. A trace of a smile played at the edges of his pale lips. “Brilliant. I knew it the moment you arrived, you know. It felt like ice water running down my neck. Really, it was Hecate who felt you, but her excitement infected the rest of us. Made us all a bit mental. We’ve been waiting for you for a long time. How did you get here?”
“Through the sewers, then the tunnels. I followed Emmett.”
“Emmett?” His eyes were wet and blank. He gazed out the window, then back at her. “Ah, Ammut. Well, you’re the first who’s ever made it all the way here, though not the first who tried. Remarkable girl.”
“If you can tell me the way out, I’ll leave and never come back.”
He let out a deep, hard laugh, catching Zoe by surprise. He seemed so frail it looked like laughing might shake him apart completely. A moment later, the laughter dissolved into wet, phlegmy coughs.
“I’ll bet you would.” He stared past her, at the moon shining through the window. “It’s a tempting idea, just to see Hecate’s face. She’s so counting on you.”
That scared her, but she tried to keep it out of her voice. “Counting on me? For what?”
“Girlie, you’re her chance to be reborn,” he said. He pointed at her with the knife. “She needs a body. A living body. Oh, she has plans for you.” He smiled, his sagging skin creasing around his mouth. The blade twitched in his hand. “She’ll peel the skin right off you and wear you like a ball gown, all the way back to the world. And when she gets there, she’ll use her considerable powers to take revenge on every living soul.” He lifted the flask and drained it. “Of course, it’s as likely that when she draws that first gulp of air into her lungs, she’ll forget all about us down here and run off to be a girl again. It’s so hard predicting the actions of the insane.” His large, wet eyes were red at the edges. Beads of sweat, or maybe tears, slid down his sagging cheeks.
“You helped her trick me into coming down here?”
“Not me. Ammut.” He set the empty flask aside. A few drops leaked from the open top, leaving a dark stain on the duvet. “You’re not so special. Anyone would do. Anyone with the need to find him.” He turned and looked at the bottles at the head of the bed. “A girl. A boy. An old man dancing the Charleston. It didn’t matter. A body was all that mattered. Of course, a pretty young girl was the first choice, and here you are.” He slid up the length of the bed, wincing as he dragged his bad leg. The first bottle he picked up from the bedside table was empty. He threw it to the floor in disgust. Still holding the knife, he took the next bottle in one hand and pulled the cork with his teeth. He drank deeply. Clear liquid trickled out of the corners of his lips.
“So, he did trick me into coming down here.”
“Tricked. Trapped. Delivered you with a bow on to his mom. Yes, you were.”
“That was him on our mountain. Watching Valentine and me,” she said. It made her feel cold inside.
“What? Who?”
“Nothing. Emmett got me good.”
“That he did. That he did.”
Mr. Prosper let go of the knife and held the bottle with both hands. The blade glittered, resting against one thin leg. When he’d had his fill, he took a breath and said, “I was a powerful man back before your father or his father was born. I was mayor of Iphigene, back when it was still Calumet. She told me when she was gone, I could be mayor again. Just another lie.”
He was far away from her, and looked worse than ever, Zoe thought. “But you fucked it up somehow, right?” she said.
Mr. Prosper leered at her angrily, dizzy, curling his lip and fumbling for the knife. He tried to stand, but his leg wouldn’t take the weight, and he flopped back down on the bed. “Don’t imagine that I’m done yet, girlie.” He grabbed the knife and pointed it at her. “I won’t let Hecate have you, and if that means slitting your pretty throat, so be it.”
Zoe wondered if she could get her razor out, and if so, could she use it on Mr. Prosper before he used his knife on her? She slid her hands out from under her legs and laid them gently on the arms of the leather chair. Mr. Prosper didn’t seem to notice. Okay, she thought.
“You were supposed to help Emmett, weren’t you? But something went wrong. Were you always a junkie?” she asked.
“Watch your mouth, brat,” said Mr. Prosper.
“That’s when Emmett realized he didn’t need you, isn’t it?” Prosper frowned at her, but his eyelids dropped. He blinked, trying to keep them open. Zoe’s heart beat madly in her chest. Instead of being afraid, she felt angry and reckless, fed up with all of Iphigene. She knew she was taking an awful chance, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do. “Is that what happened to your leg? You were so high that you fell, and then everyone knew how useless you were.”
When he didn’t speak, she thought he might have fallen asleep, but his head snapped up and he gestured with the knife. No. Wait. He’s too awake and he already has his knife out. Forget the razor. “She set the wolves, those man-beasts, on me. Her so-called children. Filth, all of them.” He rubbed his bad leg. “Who knew that after death you could feel such pain?” He drank again and closed his eyes. His voice was light and high-pitched, as if he were talking to a child.
“When she first came here she was beautiful, the most beautiful creature any of us had ever seen. She came from the hinterlands with her black dogs. From over the farthest hills, somewhere very far, very ancient. At first, she was a powerful, reassuring presence among the new souls. She’d greet them when the buses dropped them off. She’d help them get settled and find places to live, places where they’d be comfortable—apartments, longhouses, stilt houses in the forest, and what have you. She was inexhaustible. Everyone knew her, her and her dogs.”
Zoe started to say something, but saw that Mr. Prosper was somewhere else now, lost in drugs and memories.
“No one thought much about it when some of the newcomers went missing. It takes a while to settle in. We assumed they’d found family or somewhere more comfortable. At City Hall we dismissed the stories of the ravaged, sucked-dry souls she left behind while traveling here from the back of beyond.
“By the time any of us who were in a position to do anything about it were aware of the truth, it was too late. Her dogs were everywhere. Snakes, too, but they mostly stay hidden. The whole city was under her spell. They were her army . . . not that she needed one. When she marched into my office and told me that she was queen of the new city of Iphigene, I knew she was right. There was almost nothing left of Calumet by then. And when she stole the sun from the sky, we let her. Never fought her. We never even raised our voices. She didn’t come here to lead a revolt. She came here to show us that our time was over. Once we understood that, once we saw that the she-wolf was truly our queen, there was nothing left to do but give her everything, even ourselves.”
Zoe slid forward so that she was sitting on the very edge of the chair. The door was only ten feet away, but Mr. Prosper still held the knife.
“What happens now?” she asked.
His eyes snapped open, wide and red. “What happens is that I’m the one who gets reborn. I know her plans, and how she was going to sort you out.” He slumped against the wall at the head of the bed. “God, the look on her face, if only she knew.” He slurred his words and his eyelids drooped again. “Her face, when she figures it out.” He slid to his side, down onto the pillows. The amber bottle spilled its contents onto the bed. “You’re my treasure. The first one to make it all the way down. Such a clever girl.”
She could hear him breathing, taking regular, shallow breaths. The knife slipped from his hand and fell onto the Persian carpet. Zoe stood and quietly left Mr. Prosper’s room.
When she made it back to the boardwalk, Hecate and the crowd were gone. She didn’t know how long Mr. Prosper had kept her in his room, but it was long enough for the streets to clear, so he might have done her a favor after all.
Zoe started heading to Valentine’s rooftop home feeling less afraid than before. She wasn’t stupid. She kept her head down and steered clear of any dogs, but something had broken inside her in Mr. Prosper’s apartment. The steady, gnawing dread she’d felt since coming to Iphigene was gone. Maybe it was learning what had lured her to the city and why. Knowing she’d been manipulated made her feel a little less guilty. And walking out of Mr. Prosper’s room without a scratch proved something else. That the entities that ran Iphigene, for all their power and sinister magic, were far from infallible. They were fuckups and losers, just like people she knew back in the world. That was something she could understand and find comfort in.
She found the twisted garage where Valentine lived and limped up the fire escape to the roof. He was coming around the far side of the shack when they saw each other. He ran to her, his homemade legs pumping at crazy angles, and threw his arms around her.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said over and over again. “I should never have left you alone.”
“It’s all right. I’m all right,” she said.
He let go and took a step back to look at her. “I thought Hecate had you for sure. All those people in street, they’re all looking for you.”
Zoe nodded. “I know, but no one saw me. No one even looked at me.”
“I’m kind of not surprised,” said Valentine. “The way Hecate talked about you, they’re probably all out looking for someone ten feet tall and riding a tank.”
“That’s me all right,” she said. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to see a friendly, familiar face. She tried picturing Julie and Laura, even Abysnthe, here with her in Iphigene, but their faces all came out blurred and indistinct. Valentine took her hand and pulled her toward the shack.
“We should keep away from the edges of the roof. Someone might see you.”
Zoe followed him inside his crowded little home. Valentine got out a teakettle and started rummaging around the shelves for cups. “I went back looking for you just a few minutes after I left, but you were already gone,” he said.
“I kind of freaked out,” Zoe said, picturing the scene in the restaurant. The black creatures swirling in the air. Her father disappearing under them. “I ran off and got lost. It was stupid.”
“I came back for you,” Valentine said, his voice a little high and strained. “I really did come back.”
Zoe looked up at him. “I believe you.”
He lit the camp stove and put water on to boil. “So, you saw Father.”
Zoe nodded. “You were right. There was nothing I could do for him. Hell, I couldn’t even watch.”
“I’m just glad you got back here in one piece.”
Zoe took off her sneaker and rubbed her sore ankle. Her whole leg was burning. It wasn’t until she was sitting here, where she felt relatively safe and at home, that she noticed.
“I can’t leave Dad like this, paying for my mistakes,” she said. “I have to do something.”
Valentine picked up the teakettle from the stove and slammed it down hard. “Yeah? And what are you going to do for him? You going to bring him back with you to the land of the living? Maybe he can live under your bed or be the monster in your closet.”
Zoe looked down at her sore ankle as she adjusted the rag. “I can’t leave him here, being eaten piece by piece. I saw the dying dead. I won’t let him end up like that.”
“Yes, you will. You’ll leave him just like you’re going to leave me, because it’s what Father and I want and it’s the right thing to do,” shouted Valentine. “You keep trying to change things you can’t change. Some things are just too big. They are what they are and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He came over to her and bent down, pushed Zoe’s hands out of the way, and retied the cloth around her ankle until it was snug and comfortable. “If you love Father, do what he told you when you first came here. Go home. Be safe. Have a life.”
“How can I just run off and leave you?”
Valentine got up, went to a pile of dishes, and put two cups on the table. “Just put one foot in front of the other and keep doing that until you’re far away from this shithole.”
“I don’t even know how to leave.”
“Emmett . . . um, Ammut, he’s alive, isn’t he? I could go out from the place where he goes.”
Valentine turned away from her, rummaging for the sugar. “If we knew where that was.”
“I might know someone who does,” said Zoe.
Valentine turned and looked at her intently. He reached over and turned off the stove. “Let’s go.”
Traveling with Valentine made Zoe feel safe and they didn’t see any dogs along the way, so it wasn’t more than half an hour before they were standing in front of Mr. Prosper’s building.
Valentine looked up and down the bright, clean street and gave an exaggerated whistle. “Damn. I’ve seen these buildings, but I’ve never had the nerve to go inside. I always figured they had some kind of alarm that could smell street scum.”
“You’re not street scum.”
“I’m sure not one of them,” he said, looking up at the top of the building.
They went through the lobby and took the elevator up to the top floor. Zoe led the way to Mr. Prosper’s apartment. She turned the knob slowly, and when she could feel that the door wasn’t locked, she pushed it all the way open. Mr. Prosper was still asleep on the bed where she’d left him. She went over and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the sleeping man. Valentine remained in the doorway, his gaze taking in the room and its opulence.
Zoe gestured for him to come in and close the door. Valentine nodded and did as he was told. Inside, he spotted Mr. Prosper’s knife on the floor and picked it up. Zoe watched him weigh the blade in his hand. He shrugged off his greatcoat and let it fall to the floor. Zoe hadn’t seen his arms in the light before. They really were pipes. His hands were a crazy combination of metal scraps all fitted together like a rusted jigsaw puzzle. It didn’t make sense that they could work, but they did, by whatever magic ruled Iphigene. Plus, they looked formidable.